


astronomy in reverse (it was me who was discovered)

by gilligankane



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 16:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10574709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: Waverly knows she should feel lucky - she has a soulmate - but sometimes she lays in bed and presses her fingertips into her side.Is this all her life is? she asks herself. Champ Hardy and slinging drinks at Shorty's?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Born from another Tumblr prompt that asked for soulmates and tattoos and I usually find these kind of ideas cheesy but once this brain nugget started, it could not be stopped. 
> 
> Fast and loose with canon. I won't even lie about that.

At first, Waverly thinks it's a side stitch. She's in the middle of gym class - she would call it hell on Earth, but that's Purgatory, so she doesn't - when there's a sharp pain that cuts through the left side of her ribcage. She gasps and presses the flat of her hand to her side but the pressure brings her to her knees.

Chrissy is there instantly, trying to pull her back up. "What's wrong?"

Waverly can't barely get a breath in, let alone a word out. She touches her side lightly and brings her fingers up to her eyes, trying to focus, expecting blood. But there's nothing there. It takes her a moment to come back to herself and when she does, she looks up to see all of second period gym staring at her.

"I'm fine," she says shakily, accepting Chrissy's hand up. She leans into Chrissy's side. "Gosh, that hurt." She pulls at her polyester Purgatory High School t-shirt, trying to loosen the fabric.

Stephanie grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it up unceremoniously. Waverly lets out a small shriek and tries to pull the shirt back down - every boy in class whistles or hoots. But Stephanie is undeterred. She pulls high enough that Waverly just knows her white cotton bra is now sticking out, if the boy's reaction is anything to go by.

"Waverly, is it your birthday?" Stephanie asks.

Waverly nods shyly. She hadn't said anything because she hates drawing attention to it; Gus and Curtis had given her a card and a check to cover the New Testament Old Greek online language course she wanted to take. It was pretty much the perfect gift.

"You didn't say anything," Chrissy says quietly.

Waverly shoots her a quick " _I'm sorry_ " look.

Stephanie drops her shirt as quickly as she pulled it up. The boys groan and the gym teacher shoos them away. They reluctantly start jogging again and the rest of class joins them until it's just Stephanie and Chrissy and Waverly. Waverly stands unsteadily but nods when Chrissy asks if she's okay.

"Oh don't be dramatic," Stephanie says dismissively. "You just got your tattoo, that's all."

Waverly pulls her shirt up again, twisting her body to try and see what Stephanie is talking about. "What do you mean?"

"It's your 16th birthday. You got your tattoo," Stephanie says again, enunciating her words like Waverly doesn't understand. "You're not special, you know. Everyone gets one. It's totally normal," she adds.

Chrissy sighs wistfully. "I can't wait until my birthday."

Stephanie rolls her eyes and starts walking again, not making any effort to jog.

"You're so lucky," Chrissy whispers when Stephanie is far enough away.

Waverly gives her a small, secret smile. "You'll get yours. Just you wait."

Waverly touches her side gingerly as she starts to walk again before she breaks into a light jog.

Her tattoo. How perfectly _normal_.

She smiles.

\---

Waverly looks at it later, in her bedroom, where no one ( _Stephanie_ ) can judge her or poke fun at her. She peels her shirt off stands in front of her mirror in her bra. It takes a few minutes of twisting and turning before she can get a good glimpse at it; it's on the far side of her ribs, almost her back, but she finds the right angle and frowns.

It looks like a shapeless blob at first. But the longer she looks, she can see a banner across the top of the shape and a banner across the bottom and a circle in the middle with a scale. She's confused and she doesn't know what it is, not right away.

Still, she scours all of the book she can get her hands on; she does Google searches; she stops and looks at every logo in the general store, just to see if she can match it to her tattoo.

After a few weeks of relentless searching, she eases up. She tells herself, _I'll figure it out eventually. I have to_.

\---

A year and three weeks after her 16th birthday, Champ Hardy is shirtless on his bed, staring up at her with a dazed look in his eyes.

"What?" she asks self-consciously, an arm covering her chest.

"Boobs," he murmurs. He pulls at her arm.

When it drops to her side, his eyes land on her ribcage, on the tattoo she barely remembers she has anymore. He tugs her forward until she's sitting in his lap and thumbs at the outline.

"I knew we were soulmates," he says. "I'm gonna be a cop, you know."

As soon as he says it, it clicks.

"It's a Sheriff Department's badge," she breathes out.

"Well, duh," Champ says. He lifts his arm and shows her the pint glass tattooed on the inside of his bicep. "And you already have a job at Shorty's so, like, we're definitely soulmates."

_Soulmates_ repeats in her head long after Champ has fallen asleep. She rolls onto her side to look at him.

_Soulmates_.

Huh.

\---

Champ Hardy it's not the best soulmate.

He has a loose sense of monogamy and an even looser zipper on his jeans but he slinks back to her every time with roses and puppy dog eyes and she thinks, _he's my soulmate_ , so she lets him stay.

Everyone thinks she's so lucky to have found her soulmate so early. Chrissy sighs longingly whenever Champ puffs out his chest, rolls up his sleeve, and shows everyone the pint glass on his bicep. Even Stephanie can't say anything mean about it; she keeps her tattoo hidden.

Waverly knows she should feel lucky - she has a _soulmate_ \- but sometimes she lays in bed and presses her fingertips into her side.

_Is this all her life is_? she asks herself. _Champ Hardy and slinging drinks at Shorty's_?

She looks at Curtis and Gus and wants what they have. She knows Gus likes to joke and say that Curtis's tattoo is really a tomato but Waverly has seen it on the side of his neck, the simple outline of piano keys. When she was younger and Willa's screams still echoed in her ears, Gus would sit her on her lap at the old piano and play jazz standards she remembered by heart. And she would pull back Gus's sleeve to look at the shovel running from the bottom of her wrist up the length of her forearm, a testament to Curtis's love of treasure-hunting.

She wants a love like _that_.

\---

Curtis dies and Gus decides she's going to bury him in the tomato patch.

"Wouldn't want to split up soulmates," she tells Waverly with a sigh. She presses two fingers against her arm as if it stings. Her eyes well. "God damn that man."

Waverly wraps Gus up in a hug and squeezes her tightly. She wonders what Curtis would say right now, how he would make it better.

She thinks she seees Wynonna out of the corner of her eye and then shakes the thought away. _That would be ridiculous_ , she tells herself. _Wynonna is halfway across the world_.

Gus excuses herself and Champ slides in, chewing a piece of celery loudly in her ear. "Goddamn Nedley," he curses. "Failed me on the preliminary law enforcement exam. Again."

"That's okay, Champ. You have nothing to prove," she says on autopilot.

The first time he had failed, Waverly had been devastated. Her tattoo was a Sheriff's badge. Whoever she was destined to be in love with, the Sheriff's Department would be an integral part of their lives. And if Champ couldn't get into the Academy, or even pass the _preliminary_ exam, how would he really be her soulmate? But he took the test again, and then a third time, and she thought to herself that maybe just his desire to want to be a cop was strong enough that it counted. Maybe he would never be a cop but could still be her soulmate. _Gus wasn't a piano player_ , she reasoned. She just loved to play. Champ wasn't a cop but he wanted to be. She spends a lot of time reconciling that as the same thing. But she does it. And every time he fails, she tells him not to panic, not worry.

(" _Really_ ," Stephanie's voice echoes in her head. " _Are you going to do better than Champ Hardy_?")

The new Sheriff's Department rookie stops in at the wake, pays her respects. She's hard to miss in this crowd of old faces but she catches Waverly's eye, tips her hat, and slides back out into the yard. Waverly hisses softly and presses her fingertip to her side, right against her tattoo. The pressure takes away some of the pain.

Waverly tries to watch her go but Champ pulls her to the corner and tries to talk her into going over to Shorty's while everyone else "cries about Curtis like big ol' babies."

Waverly pushes him off of her. "Jesus, Champ. Gus just lost her _soulmate_."

(She doesn't hear him say that Gus'll just find another one.

If she did, she'd aim that gun at him instead of whoever-is-flirting-with-him-who-turns-out-to-Wynonna.)

\---

Nicole Haught is like nothing Waverly has ever seen.

Female deputies are not unheard of; they're not even rare in Purgatory. But none of them walk the way Nicole Haught does. None of them smile at her the way Nicole Haught does.

None of them make her stomach flip the way Nicole Haught does.

Purgatory is a small town but it's not the first time a woman has hit on her; she's a bartender and they get a lot of tourists. But Nicole Haught is definitely flirting with her, Waverly knows that much.

It's thrilling.

It's terrifying.

She has a boyfriend who is her soulmate. And sure, he's less than everything she hoped her soulmate would be, but their souls belong to each other and that _has_ to count for something.

She's done a lot of research on the concept of soulmates. Some people believe that you should save yourself for your soulmate and after they're gone, you should never love again. Others believe that the tattoos are a guide and they lead you to people who _could_ be your soulmate, but it's all trial and error. There're even some people who believe that when you're around the person you're supposed to be linked to forever, your tattoo burns, just slightly, the same way it does when you first get it. The burn is supposed to let you know you found the one. And when you lose that person, your tattoo burns again, mourning.

Waverly tries to ignore that when she first locked eyes with Nicole Haught, her side burned.

(It's burned every time since.)

It means nothing.

Champ is her soulmate and he has been since the first time he laid a rough, calloused rodeo hand on her side.

So what Wynonna (and Gus and Curtis and Shorty and Mrs. Walpole and half the damn town) thinks she could do better.

So what he's a "boy-man".

So what he still sleeps around behind her back.

So what Nicole Haught looks at her and makes her very extensive vocabulary quiver.

So what.

_Soulmates_ , she tells herself. _You don't just leave behind your soulmate_.

\---

"Welcome to Purgatory," Nicole says with a sigh, dropping into the bar stool across from the taps. "That's what he said as he broke a baseball bat across my cruiser's hood."

Waverly pushes a beer across the bar. "Huh?"

Nicole pushes her hair back over her shoulder. It's down tonight and pin-straight. Waverly wonders how soft it feels before she pushes that ridiculous idea out of her head.

"Tom Gibson got drunk yesterday, fought with his wife, and when she called Nedley, he sent me out there," Nicole explains.

Waverly winces. "Tom Gibson -"

"Doesn't like newcomers, is what I'm figuring out," Nicole finishes. "Because as soon as I got out there, he turned all of his attention to me. And put a dent in my brand new cruiser." She takes a long sip of her beer and makes a face. "That's the third time this week, by the way."

"Third time what?" Waverly lingers in front of Nicole. The bar is busy but everyone seems content for a few minutes. Waverly has learned that's she likes Nicole's attention and without Champ around, she gets plenty of it.

"Third time Nedley has sent me out to calm down a crazy redneck off their rocker," Nicole says. "It's a 404 call."

Waverly giggles a little at that, glaring when Frank Casey shoots them a look. She turns back to Nicole. "I'm sure he's just testing you, you know."

Nicole shrugs and downs half of her beer. "What about you?"

"What about me?" She picks up her glass of soda behind the bar.

"What test do I have to pass for you, Waverly Earp?"

Waverly chokes on a sip of cola. "Huh?"

Nicole smirks. "How do I get you to like me?"

"Oh, well, I, uh," Waverly sputters. "I already like you."

Nicole raises an eyebrow and leans back on her stool. "Oh really?" she drawls.

Waverly feels her face flush instantly. "I mean... Uh..."

Nicole is still smirking at her. "Yes?" she prompts.

Frank Casey leans into their conversation. "What about me, Waverly. Do ya already like me?"

Waverly's head snaps to the left. "Take a walk, Frank." When he doesn't immediately move, she reaches over and takes a half-empty glass from his hand, tossing the drink into the sink and the glass into the well.

Nicole stays quiet the whole time, sipping her beer. When Frank slinks away towards the pool table, Nicole reaches into her pocket and fishes out a bill. "For his drink," she explains to Waverly.

"No, no," Waverly tries to say. "It's fine."

Nicole waves her off and pushes the $5 into her hand. "You were saying something about liking me," she reminds Waverly.

Waverly feels her face grow hot again and she shakes her head. "Don't be mean, Officer Haught."

Nicole looks herself up and down quickly. She stares pointedly at her dark jeans and her loose t-shirt. "Just Nicole tonight. Unless you like the Officer bit. Then you can call me that if you'd like."

Waverly rolls her eyes and reaches up above the bar for the martini glasses that hang there. She feels her shirt ride up slightly on her sides and she curses the air conditioning in the bar. Nicole stops talking, her words fading abruptly. Waverly comes down off her tiptoes frowning. She turns back to the bar top and Nicole is closer, leaning over the bar, eyes locked on Waverly's midsection.

Waverly pulls down her shirt self-consciously. Nicole immediately sits back. "I'm so sorry," she says quickly. "I didn't mean to... I wasn't... I just -" She takes a breath. "Your tattoo. It looks..."

Waverly holds an arm over her side, feeling 17 again and naked in Champ's bedroom.

"What is it?" Nicole asks. She shakes her head as soon as the words are out. "No, I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me. I shouldn't have asked."

Waverly shrugs but doesn't move her arm. "It's fine. No one... no one has ever asked to see it before, that's all."

Nicole is still shaking her head. "That was stupid of me. I'm sorry."

Waverly doesn't argue with her. She doesn't agree, either, but her tattoo burns under Nicole'a attention so she stays quiet.

"Can we pretend I never said anything?" Nicole asks, her voice strained. Her eyes are still locked on Waverly's side.

"Hey, babe," Champ says loudly, sidling up to the bar. Waverly uncurls at the familiar greeting.

Nicole notices, if the way she stiffens and recoils is any indication.

Champ's arm around her waist is tight - too tight - and it only grows tighter when he realizes it's Nicole sitting across the bar from her. She's not sure why he doesn't like her, but he's told her plenty of times how he doesn't trust her. She thinks it might have something to do with holding Champ accountable for trying to leave Shorty's after drinking a whole 12-pack, unlike the rest of Nedley's deputies, but he never tells her why whenever she asks.

Nicole drains the rest of her glass and lets it drop onto the bar top. Waverly jumps a little at the sound and looks up just as Nicole puts a $20 down.

Waverly scoops it up to give it back - its way too much - but Nicole is already spinning off the stool, pulling her black jacket on. She walks backwards towards the stairs, nodding her head at Waverly but not quite meeting her eyes.

"I don't know," Champ says, draped over her. "There's something about her that rubs me the wrong way." The both watch the door swing closed behind Nicole as she disappears into the parking lot.

Waverly doesn't hear him. The burning in her side is gone and there's nothing but a dull ache left behind.

\---

Having a soulmate doesn't stop her from kissing Nicole Haught in the break room at the cop shop while she's visiting Wynonna.

(Wynonna as a cop is something she can't wrap her head around. Waverly working as a consultant, that's not outside the realm of ordinary. But Wynonna...)

Maybe she can pass it off as an accident. She was only reaching for the sugar that someone stupidly put on the second shelf in the cabinet next to the coffee pot. Wynonna, probably. She was as up on her tiptoes as she could be and she still couldn't reach it. She wasn't expecting Nicole to come up behind her, reach over her, and take the packet container down. She didn't even ask for the help. But when she turned around to say "thank you" she wasn't expecting Nicole to still be that close and she stumbled. She wasn't expecting that stupidly crookedly smile or the way that Nicole's hands went to her waist to steady her.

She wasn't expecting that burning sensation to happen again, but it did. So she gasped.

And Nicole leaned in and her gasp disappeared as quickly as it had come, swallowed up in a kiss. Nicole's hands flexed on her hips and Waverly felt her body pushing forward into Nicole.

The sugar packets crunch under her feet as she backs up against the counter. The Formica countertop presses hard against her spine but Nicole's mouth is all heat and bitter, like black coffee. Waverly sighs a little and slants her head back. Her hands slide up Nicole's arms to her shoulder and into her hair. She can feel the strands of Nicole's braids start to unravel and she pulls back just enough to realize what she's doing.

"Oh, god. Oh, wow," she says, her hand coming up over her mouth.

Nicole backs up, putting some distance between them. Her cheeks are flushed red but she's looking at Waverly like she's the best thing Nicole has ever seen.

Waverly doesn't know what to do with that kind of attention. She's always been good at being second-best.

Nicole reaches for her own top, tugging at the collar of her uniform shirt. "Let me explain," she says as she starts unbuttoning the shirt. She gets to the second button before Waverly snaps out of her daze

"Nicole, stop," she says quietly, reaching to still Nicole's hands.

Nicole tries to shift away, still working the third button. "No, you don't understand. But I can explain to -"

Waverly grabs both of her hands then, putting them down at Nicole's side and reaching back up, slowly slipping the buttons backs into place. "I have Champ," she says quietly. "And just because he sees other people on the side, it doesn't mean -"

"He what?" Nicole asks, eyes narrow and dark.

Waverly shrugs like it's no big deal; everyone else seems to think it isn't. "I have a soulmate," she tries again. "And you're, _god_ , you're pretty. And smart. And, uh, a good kisser. But I have Champ and he's it for me."

Nicole looks at her long and hard but her shoulders sag after a minute and she nods once. She turns to leave the break room but pauses in the doorway, studying Waverly.

"If you think Champ Hardy is it for you," she starts. She stops and shakes her head. "He doesn't deserve you, Waverly Earp."

Waverly lets her leave. She sag back against the counter and presses one finger to her lips.

\---

Waverly has had a very stressful year.

Curtis is gone, Shorty is gone, Wynonna is back, the Earp curse is real, and Champ Hardy is definitely not her soulmate.

Catching him with Stephanie is the last straw and dumping him is almost a relief. He hollers out the window of the apartment above Shorty's, shouting about _soulmates_ and _being sorry_ and how _he loves her_ , but for the first time in her life, Waverly tells him to shove it.

She marches down into the bar and leans over the counter to grab the first bottle of whisky she can find, twisting off the top and taking a long gulp.

"Slow down, girly," Gus tells her. She takes the bottle from her and pours Waverly three fingers worth before putting the bottle back. "Wanna tell me what's going on?"

"I broke up with Champ."

Saying the words out loud is freeing in a way that actually breaking up with Champ wasn't. Now it's out there, in the open.

She's a free woman.

Champ Hardy is _not_ her soulmate.

He never was.

She can do better than him.

She finally gets it now.

Gus smiles widely, maybe for the first time since Curtis died, and pours herself her own finger of whisky. "To being honest," she declares.

Waverly frowns slightly but drinks to that anyway. There's still two shots in her glass so she raises it again, shuddering with the aftertaste. "To letting go of what's holding you back."

Gus tips her glass and finishes the whisky. "Speaking of that," she starts. She pulls a folded piece of paper from her pocket, unfolds it, and hands it to Waverly. "Don't cash it for a week or so."

Waverly takes the check and stares at dumbly, her mind trying to make sense of all the zeros she's looking at. "What's this?"

Gus flicks the check. "It's freedom, honey," she declares. "You've been doing what others want you to do for so long. Now you can do whatever it is you want."

Waverly looks away and sighs. "Which is what?" she asks.

"Live your life," Gus says, like she should already know. "Remember, some of the best things in life are the surprises it throws us. About what we want." She levels Waverly with a hard stare. " _Who_ we want."

Waverly finishes the glass of whisky and does one more shot for the road. _The road_ leads her to the Sheriff's station and into Nedley's office.

It leads her to Nicole, who catches her when she jumps and presses a steady hand to Waverly's side when they kiss.

"Woah. What happened to friends?" Nicole asks.

It's a funny time to be asking that, Waverly figures. Stretched out on Nedley's couch, Nicole tall and strong beneath her, Waverly thinks for a long moment.

"Champ Hardy isn't it for me," she finally says. "He's something, but he's not my soulmate."

Nicole's hands flex against her sides.

"I mean," she continues, sitting back on her shins. Nicole sits up a little too, her eyes lingering on Waverly's lips. "I don't even know if I really believe in soulmates anymore. Wynonna's tattoo? It's a whisky bottle. Seriously. Can you believe that?"

Nicole nods slowly. Waverly can tell that she's trying to figure out where this is going.

"And it's not like soulmate tattoos are even indiv- indi- indicative," she finally manages, "of a soulmates career, right? Gus didn't play the piano. Curtis wasn't really a treasure hunter. They were just hobbies. What if Curtis was really soulmates with a concert pianist who didn't even know Purgatory existed? What if Gus was supposed to be in love with someone from the municipal department?" Waverly sighs, her fingertips tracing intricate patterns on Nicole's uniform pants, over her knee. "Soulmates aren't a requirement. They're a... suggestion." She smiles brightly, pleased with her logic.

Nicole is still staring at her.

"So I figure, why wait?" Waverly asks. "Why wait when you're here and you _like_ me and you don't have to be my _soulmate_. You can just be someone I like back."

Her side feels like a raging inferno; she ignores it.

She leans in to kiss Nicole again, already feeling like she's addicted to the taste of Nicole's chapstick and the feel of her lips and the heat of her tongue. But just as she's about to land, Nicole twists and is up and off the couch, wringing her hands in front of her utility belt.

"What?" Waverly asks, righting herself.

"You've had a bit to drink," Nicole says. "I can... smell it." _Really_ , Waverly knows, _she can taste it_. "So maybe we should do this another time."

Waverly climbs off the couch, sliding her hands across Nicole's waist. "Or maybe I should stop talking. Maybe _you_ should stop talking." She pushes up off her heels and presses her mouth to Nicole's.

Nicole kisses back for a moment, threading her hands through Waverly's hair. Waverly moans and moves in closer and it breaks the spell. Nicole pushes back from her and shakes her head, holding out a hand when Waverly tries to come closer.

"No," she says, panting softly. "I can't. Not with you. This can't be just -" She cuts herself off and takes a large step back. "When you're sober," she says. "We can talk when you're sober. When you're..."

Waverly frowns as she notices Nicole' eyes, wide and wet. Nicole won't meet her gaze, looking around wildly as she smooths down a piece of flyaway hair.

"Soulmates are real. They're a real thing. I believe that," Nicole breathes out. She takes a shaky step backwards towards the door. "We can talk later."

Waverly sinks down to the couch and watches the shadow of Nicole, through the blinds, move down the hall away from the front desk.

She sighs and presses the heel of her palm into her forehead. Goddamn Gus.

Goddamn Champ Hardy.

_Goddamn soulmates_ , she thinks; _everyone loses theirs anyway_.

\---

It's the burning in her side that tells her exactly who walked into the bar in the middle of the day.

"You're avoiding me," Nicole says unceremoniously.

Waverly looks up from where she's doing the books, sitting at the bar in Curtis's seat. She looks back down at the row of numbers and finishes calculating them.

"I'm not sure what I did," Nicole continues.

Waverly scoffs. "Beside turn me down."

"I did that for your own good," Nicole argues. "You were drunk."

"I had a few shots," Waverly counters. "That's hardly what I would call drunk.

"You just broke up with the guy you thought was your soulmate."

Waverly slams the pencil down, angry now. "Stop making up excuses for why you felt like you were doing me a favor, okay?"

The truth is, she was avoiding Nicole. Being turned down, turned away, stung more than she is willing to admit out loud. And seeing Nicole now, seeing her coming up with reasons for why kissing her was such a hardship, that stings even worse than being let down in the first place.

The turn of a lock gets Waverly's attention. She looks up as Nicole pulls a hand away from the door, her other hand gripping her hat tightly.

"I was protecting myself," Nicole admits with a shrug. "You're a force of nature, Waverly Earp. And you kissing me is the best thing that's happened to me since moving to Purgatory."

Waverly eyes Nicole warily as she approaches, placing her hat on the bar next to Waverly's work. She removes her belt next, unloading her gun carefully. Waverly follows her hands, watching as they drift to her collar, tugging at the top button.

"I've been trying to tell you," Nicole says.

One button comes undone.

"I know you think that soulmates are stupid and that Champ was it for you," she continues. "But goddamn it, Waverly. He is the worst person you could have picked."

Another button.

"You don't know him," Waverly defends weakly, distracted by the shadow of Nicole's collarbone under her uniform shirt.

A third button comes undone.

"I know enough to know that he could never ever do anything to deserve you," Nicole argues. "I know he's not your soulmate."

Waverly tries to look up and meet Nicole's eyes but she can't. A fourth button comes undone and Nicole is sliding an arm out of her shirt, lifting it above her head.

"I turned sixteen and there it was," she starts. "It stung like a sonofabitch but I couldn't wait to meet whoever it belonged to. And then years when by and all my friends found their soulmates, but I was still waiting." She walks closer to Waverly, enough that Waverly could reach out and touch her if Waverly thought she could even move. "By the time I finished the Acadmey, I figured it would just happen when it was supposed to happen. And then I got the job here, in Purgatory. Things were okay. Fine. Pretty good."

She twists her arm so Waverly can see the beginning of the ink that winds around the underside of Nicole's bicep.

"But one day I was at the station and Nedley tells me this guy, Curtis McCready has died. And I should pay my respects," Nicole continues. "So I drive out to Gus's house and I go inside and I nearly fall down. Because there's this sharp pain cutting through my shooting arm. I thought I _had_ been shot. But after I took a few deep breaths, I stood back up and I saw _you_."

Waverly's fingers trace Nicole's tattoo: an outline of a stack of books. Her own side thrums with an energy she can't describe. The only tattoos she's ever touched have been family, or Champ's. But touching Nicole's tattoo makes the pain in her side slow to an ache that feels _good_. Nicole's lips part slightly as Waverly presses against her tattoo.

"My mom always told me that when I saw my soulmate, the whole world would spin and feel like fire." Nicole's free hand drifts to Waverly's side. Her hand is cool against the bare skin of Waverly's midsection, her fingertips barely sliding up under her crop top. "And the second I laid my eyes on you, I've felt like I've been burning from the inside out."

Waverly isn't sure how they ended up so close together. Nicole's bottom lip grazed her top one as she looks down at Waverly.

"Tell me you've felt the same," Nicole says, her whisper almost desperate.

"It never burned for Champ," is what Waverly ends up saying.

Nicole moves back a fraction of an inch but Waverly stops her, her free hand wound through the belt loop of Nicole's uniform.

"It never burned for Champ," she repeats. "But I saw _you_ and it felt just like the first time I felt it. Every time I see you, it aches. The only time it doesn't..." She looks up at Nicole curiously. "The only time it doesn't is when you're touching me."

Waverly watches as Nicole takes that in, understands it. Then her eyes widen and light up and her hand is sliding completely beneath the hem of Waverly's shirt, her whole palm pressing against the sheriff's badge tattooed there. And then she's leaning down and kissing Waverly and the burn intensifies and smolders and Waverly feels _right_.

"Soulmates are real," Nicole breathes out into her mouth.

Waverly nods, nipping at Nicole's bottom lip, her fingertips hot as they press against Nicole's tattoo.

"Soulmates are real," she agrees. "You're real."

_Soulmates_ , she thinks as Nicole kisses her.

Yes.


End file.
